Romance of a Missionary, I: A Story

, ROMANCE OF A MISSIONARY. BY NEPHI ANDERSON, AUTHOR OF "ADDED UPON," "THE CASTLE BUILDER," ETC. I. GETTING "WET OVER." It looked as if it might rain any minute. One of the elders was fearful that it would, the other that it would not. If the v, ater from the black overhanging clouds come down in actual drops instead of in a fine misty drizzle, why, of course, the street meeting would have to be abandoned, —and this is what Elder Willard Dean half prayed in his heart would happen. I said "half prayed" because there was a struggle in the mind of the young man. He was a newly arrived elder, having been in England only a few weeks. He had accompanied Elder Walter Donaldson, his companion, to a number of street meetings, but as yet, he had not been required to take part in them to any great extent. This evening his companion had intimated that it was time he was testing his voice in the open, and this is the reason why the young man walked with fear and trembling throughout the crowded street. The streets of an English manufacturing city are usually crowded on Saturday evening. The mills have closed early; the young men and women have been home, have had their "tea," have changed their work garments to cleaner ones, and are now promenading the streets, enjoying the freedom of the open. They are a happy, merry crowd, exchanging greetings and banterings as they pass and repass, the girls ahead linked arm in arm, the young men following.

18 IMPROVEMENT ERA. This Saturday evening, in this particular English city of Brad- ford, there appeared to be an unusually large crowd. The weather had been wet all week, but now the clouds had lifted for a few hours, the sun had shone for a few minutes through the murky, yellow mist, and these favorable tokens had, no doubt, brought out the people. However, the clouds had again lowered, and the rain was once more threatening. The young "Mormon" elders pushed themselves carefully through the crowd, looking for a good corner on which to hold a meeting. Here, certainly, were people enough, to form an audience but these were not the kind that stopped and listened to a street preacher; besides, the police would not allow a blockade in the prin- cipal thoroughfares; they, therefore, went on to a part of the city less densely packed. Elder Dean slipped his hand into his campanion's arm as they walked along. He looked up to the sky, then at the mass of the humanity around him, and then into the face of Elder Donaldson; but in none of these did he find any hope of relief for the task that was before him. How could he stand out there on the pave- ment and raise his voice so that people would stop and listen to him! If they would only not stop nor listen, it might not be so bad, but likely, some at least would. They would look closely into his face, and listen carefully to every stammering word that he would utter. They would see his nervous, awkward manner, they would mark well his faltering speech. Oh, if it would only rain! Willard Dean clasped his friend's arm tighter, and drew up closer. "Brother," said he, "don't call on me tonight. I feel as though I can't do it." ' 'But you must begin sometime, you know, and this evening is as good a time as any. Brace up, my boy, and trust in the Lord." "Yes, I know, but you can't conceive how I feel — "Can't I? I haven't forgotten my first experience in London. But, Brother, let me assure you, it is not so bad as it appears. There is really nothing to fear. An English crowd will hurt no one." "It isn't that, at all. I'm afraid of myself more than the people."

Drawn by Denzil Long for the Era. 'Yes, I am a 'Mormon,' " shouted Willard Dean, "and I am not ashamed of it."

20 IMPROVEMENT ERA. ' "Listen," said Elder Donaldson, 'do you remember when as boys we went swimming?" "Yes." "Well, you remember what a time it was to wet over. We would stand on the bank shivering and hesitating, afraid of the cold water. A shower of water from someone splashing in the creek was not very pleasant; but once we plunged bravely in and got well wet over, everything was right and swimming was all great fun. Well, this missionary work is very much like that. An eMer must get 'wet over' and keep 'wet over' or he is in misery all the time. Here is a good ccrner for a meeting." Elder Donaldson stepped out from the pavement a short dis- tance into a bystreet where he would not be interfering with the traffic. He took his hymn book from his pocket and began look- ing for something to sing. While he was thus occupied, Elder Dean came and stood by him. The crowd became merely a blur to him. He thought that as a boy and even as a young man he had been called upon to do some unpleasant duties, but none could equal this one. What was praying in Sunday School, lecturing in Mutual, ward teaching, or chopping wood for the ward widows, compared with this! The young man fairly trembled as his com- panion raised his voice in a song, in which he was expected to join. The men were fairly good singers, but this evening they seemed to be out of both tune and time. People were attracted more by the disharmony than by the music. The street was well lighted by the lamps in the shop windows, and the missionaries could plainly see the grin on many of the faces of their listeners. Just before the close of the second stanza, something went wrong. The tune come to its natural and proper end, but there were more words to come in the song, and so there was a very bad mix up. However, Elder Donaldson announced the purpose of their visit on the streets of the city, and then he offered a short prayer. By this time quite a number of people had gathered. Elder Donaldson spoke on the first principles of the gospel, and he was listened to quite attentively. When he closed, he took his hat

ROMANCE OF A MISSIONARY. 21 from his companion and said to him, "All right, bear your testi- mony." The young man bared his head and stepped out into the circle. At that moment a number of men stopped, and then pushed their way to the inner circle where they stood listening. The young missionary had not spoken many words before one of these men shouted directly at him: "You are a liar!" Willard Dean was born and reared in Western. America, where no man calls another a liar unless he stands ready to back it up by the power of his fists, or at times with weapons more deadly. Wil- lard Dean suddenly awoke from his frightened stupor. The words stung him. They cleared his brain, and the muscles of his limbs became tense. Elder Donaldson gripped his arm tightly and said, "Go on, pay no attention to that fellow. The young man tried to continue his speaking, but the man in the crowd shouted again, "You are lying! You are 'Mormons' from Utah, coming here to steal away our women. These men are 'Mormons,'" he said turning and addressing himself to the crowd. "Yes, I am a 'Mormon,' " shouted Willard Dean, "and I am not ashamed of it." "You ought to be," came from a woman in another part of the crowd. "Let the young man talk," spoke up a third person. "He lies, he lies," shouted the first interrupter. "I know these 'Mormons' and their devilish ways. Beware of them, people." Willard Dean was about to step across the short space which separated him from his accuser, but his companion stopped him. "Let me hit him," he pleaded, "let me hit him just once!" "Hush, you musn't. Let me talk to the people." But they had heard the young preacher's remark, and some of them shouted: "'E want's to fight. 'E's a fine preacher, e is." Then there came a rush which nearly carried the elders off their feet. A party of anti- "Mormons" had planned to break up the meeting, and they were succeeding. Elder Donaldson had all

22 IMPROVEMENT ERA. he could do to prevent his companion from entering into the thick of the melee and "laying out" a few of them. "Come," said the wiser one, "we must get out of this crowd." "What! run away from these cowards? Not at all." "'E want's to fight," someone again shouted, "poke his bloody 'ed." There was another rush and the elders were in danger of be- ing roughly handled. Willard Dean had thought it hard to face a strange crowd as a preacher, but he found it still harder to re- main cool and nonresistive when a lot of cowardly men and boys were insulting him by both words and blows. The elders got away and walked along the street. The crowd had now become a mob, and spurred on by the anti- 'Mor- ' mons," they followed the men, hooting and jeering at them and pelting them with what street refuse they could gather. "Do we have to stand all this?" asked Wilbrd. they'll not hurt us; a rotten egg makes no bruises, "Yes; and we can wash off the mud. Come on." — "But it hu^ts terribly inside!" , Elder Donaldson only laughed. "Shall we go to our lodging?" asked Willard. "No; we will board the first car which comes. That is the best thing to do to get away from a mob like this." In a few minutes they jumped on a passing car. The mob did not care to pay a penny for the pleasure of tormenting them further, so they were safe. When they surveyed one another they found that they had escaped easily. The few sticks and stones had done no damage, and the mud was soon removed. At the end of a ten minutes' ride they alighted from the car. They stood looking at each other, and Elder Donaldson laughed heartily. "Is this a laughing matter?" asked Dean. "Well, isn't it?" '1 guess it is," replied his companion after a pause. Then he continued: "You usually hold two meetings each evening, don't you?" "Yes, usually. Do you want another tonight?" "Most certainly. I'm getting wet over. Do you think that

ROMANCE OF A MISSIONARY. 23 because those sneaking fellows back there have thrown water on me that I shall back out and not complete the operation? Not at all. Let's go and hold another meeting. We are at least a mile from the mob, and they'll not disturb us, do you believe?" "No; they will not, but others may." "Let's try it, then. I believe I'm wet over, already." "Well, I believe you are, too," They chose a corner where not so many people were passing, and there they began another meeting. The rain cloud still hung threateningly over the city, and now Elder Dean's wish that it would not rain was not divided. The time was nearing nine o'clock, but there were a good many people out, and there would be, until mid- night. They sang a hymn, with better success this time. Elder Don- aldson prayed. Then Brother Dean stepped out into the small circle that had gathered. He began quietly, as if he were explain- ing some gospel principle to a Sunday school class in a small room. He did not need to speak loudly to be heard. People stopped and listened to the earnest young man, and soon there was a good-sized company. The speaker raised his voice as the audience increased. Such freeiom of speech had never come to Willard Dean before. Thoughts came freely, and they were uttered in apt and easy words. The truth of the message which he was bearing to his fellow men came forcibly to him, and his testimony grew strong. All fear left him now, and he felt as if he was not only master of himself but of any situation that might arise. Presently someone on the outskirts of the crowd made an in- terruption. Elder Dean paused. "Friend, do not disturb the meeting, he said. ' 'If you have any questions to ask, we shall be pleased to answer them when we are through." But this did not satisfy one man in the crowd. There came to be considerable confusion, and Elder Donaldson suggested to his companions that they would better close the meeting. "No," said Elder Dean, "not yet;" and then he stepped out into the open and nearer to the people. The young man drew himself to his full height and stood silently looking at the crowd. Tall he was, with broad, straight shoulders. His bushy, brown

24 IMPROVEMENT ERA. hair showed signs of the recent scramble. His face, though smooth and round and boyish, no# beamed with light, and a deter- mined purpose shone from it. The confusion continued, but there was no effort to push the elders off. Those nearest to Willard Dean, and who stood as si- lent as he, bad no desire to get closer. Willard now began to feel that if he was to win, he would have to receive strength from a higher Power than his own; and as he stood there — it was only a few moments, but it seemed a long time to him — he prayed for power to subdue, and to conquer. A feeling came to him that there were some in that assembly who were seeking after the truth. In all fairness, such ought to have the opportunity to hear it. Standing at one side of the crowd, and looking intently at the young missionary, was a little elderly woman dressed in black. She carried a basket on her arm, in which were her Saturday evening purchases. Willard, in turning, caught sight of this woman, and something in her face attracted him. There was a striking resemblance in the woman's features to those of his moth- er, — his mother in far-off Utah, who had sent him out with her love and blessing. Then it came to him as a flash: his mother was an Englishwoman, and she had come, when a young woman, from this very city. The thought inspired him. He stepped up to the little woman that had attracted him and began to speak to her. As he did not speak loudly, those near them who were eager to hear were compelled to listen attentively. In this way the circle of quietness grew, until in a few minutes practically all the people were listening to the conversation which was taking place. "Good woman," said Willard to the figure in black, with pale face, — "you remind me of my mother the mother that I left six thousand miles from here to bring a glad message to you." "Be you from 'Moimonia?' " asked she with an inquiring tone. "I am from Utah, in America," he replied. "You are a 'Mormon?' " "Yes." "Well, where the 'Mormons' live is 'Mormonia/ isn't it?" "I never heard it called that before," said he.

ROMANCE OF A MISSIONARY. 25 Then he turned again to the listening people, and raising his voice so that all could hear distinctly, he said: 'Friends, this good woman reminds me of my mother. ' My mother is an Englishwoman, and came from this very town. Sonn of the older people may know her and her parents. In her girl- hood she worked in your mills, — very likely one of these near at hand. Sh c went to Utah many years ago, but she remembers her native country yet, and loves it and its people. Said she to me before I left her: 'My boy, when you get to the old country you will find many things that are strange to you' — that's true, friends. 'You will find that very many will not listen to you or your message, but this you will find among all Englishmen — a love of fair play. They may not always treat you kindly, but they will usually treat you fairly.' Friends, I want my mother's words to come true. My brother and I have been chased by a mob in the streets of this city this very evening. There is no fair play about that. I want to think that that experience is only an exception to the general rule, and that you, gentlemen, are the Englishmen of whom my mother spoke, whom she knew in her younger days —Englishmen who love fair play." By this time a good many people had stopped and were listen- to the young man. A murmur of applause greeted his appeal to them. As it was becoming late, the traffic of the city grew smaller, and therefore the distracting noises fewer. The rain clouds hung low, and already a little fine rain began to fall. However, neither preacher nor audience seemed to pay heed to it. Elder Dean, referring again to his mother, told them of her experiences in emigrating to America, and of the hardships en- dured in settling its wild western country. "What was all this for?" he asked. "I will tell you. It was for the love of the gos- pel of Jesus Christ, and that she might be with the people of her own faith. Her own kindred had cast her out, because she had followed the convictions of her heart; and so she said to her fel- low believers, with Ruth of old: 'Intreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest I will go; and where thou lodgest I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God.' So she went with them to America, and to Utah. And she has prospered over there. She loves her

26 IMPROVEMENT ERA. native land yet, and I, her son, feel as if you, my friends, were part of my kin. My heart goes out towards this great nation,where the gospel has found so many noble men and women, and where I feel there are many yet who are looking for more of the truth than they can find in the conflicting creeds of the day." He spoke to them briefly of the restoration of the gospel by angel visits to the Prophet Joseph Smith, and then closed by bearing his testimony. The rain was falling faster now, and at the close of Elder Donaldson's brief prayer of dismissal the people hurriedly dispersed. There was no chance to give out any literature in such weath- er, so the men walked homeward in the rain, which now came pelting down. For a while Elder Dean was so unconscious of it that he failed to raise his umbrella. "Elder Dean," said his companion, "it seems to me that you are not only wet over, but wet through. Put up your umbrella." "It was glorious," replied the other, as he did what he was told. "And. dear brother, I (vant to keep not only wet overall the time, but wet through and through." (to be continued.) Salt Lake City, Utah. AUTUMN. {For the Improvement Era.) Vibrates the air with a singular thrill Fairies and brownies ar^ roaming at will Purling and winding, the rills run below; Above, the sun sheds an ambient glow O'er mountain and valley, cascade and stream; Dallies sweet nature as if in a dream. 'Twixt summer and winter, she scarcely knows how To adorn her proud form or garland her brow. Lo she has chosen her robe is of brown, ! ; With festoons of crimson and thistle-down. Golden her crown, while emeralds are seen — Peeping forth from her tresses beautiful queen Breathless we gaze; e'en the trees at her call Tremble and flutter, and let their leaves fall To weave her a rug of exquisite design, To spread from the sea to the odorous pine, Where sometimes she sits over-looking the land, And beats back the storms with her magical wand. Salt Lake City, Utah. Ruth M. Fox.